Rewriting to improve writing.
"Gods are born out of the need of humans but they shall die at the hands of the ones they've wronged."
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The world of demigods has never been a safe one, plagued by monsters, the wrath of gods, and the impending d...
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You were supposed to keep me safe, Instead I was forced to keep myself safe from you. Fuck you.
༺♥༻ Tw- teeth rotting fluff.
Song- Sweet Sorrow of Mother- Bibi
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It wasn't everyday that y/n got to hang out with her mother, mostly because of how hard it was for her to handle her own mother's sickness. When they did have the time and circumstances, the favourite thing they would do for y/n, was visit one of the houses her mother owned near the city edge, closer to the sea. This house, perched on a cliff overlooking the vast expanse of the ocean, always seemed to bring them both a sense of calm and serenity.
As the 14-year-old lay on the little tanning bed with a big umbrella over her to shield her from the sun, which was funny considering it was a 'tanning bed', she watched her mother put the turtle she had picked up from the sand back into the water ever so lovingly. The beach was their sanctuary, a place where they could escape the hustle and bustle of city life and bond over the simple pleasures of nature.
It surprised her how her mother was never scared to go into such scary depths of the sea, being the most courageous woman she ever knew. When her mother wasn't being scary, she was being so tender and nurturing it made her episodes feel like bad nightmares. After she finally set the animal free, she turned around and began walking back towards her daughter, a small triumphant smile on her face. The sun glistened off the water droplets on her skin, making her look ethereal.
If y/n was asked to admire a goddess, she'd admire her mother. The way the wind blew the woman's hair across her face a little, making her smile and try to push it back. The way she emerged from the sea foam like Aphrodite herself seemed to sting some deep-seated pain in the girl's heart, who still saw her mom as innocent. Sometimes she wondered how her mother would be like if she was never born.
"Hey baby, are you hungry?" The woman asked as she walked up to the bed beside the girl and picked up a towel, wrapping it around herself and laying down on her own tanning bed which had an umbrella above it too.
"Kind of, little," said y/n as she kept staring at her mother, mesmerized. How could a woman change so much because of her episodes.
Her mother picked up a box in the bag kept on the table between them and pulled out an apple, holding it out to the 14-year-old. Without another word, y/n accepted it and began to stare at it. It was a wonderful red apple, almost as red as the sun setting over the ocean.
"You know, there's a story about a golden Apple in Greek mythos, relating to Athena, Aphrodite, and Hera," her mother said, making her look at her mother.
"Really?" She asked, sitting up a little. "What is it?"
"Ah, yes," her mother began, her eyes taking on a distant look as if she was recalling an old tale from memory. "It's a tale of vanity, jealousy, and divine mischief."
